Last Words
by 88Keys
Summary: What was Chase really thinking and feeling while trapped in the snow? And what if his family rescued him instead of Douglas? A much more dramatic re-telling of "Avalanche," with an alternate ending.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: This is what I wish could have happened in "Avalanche." I did do some research on hypothermia, so hopefully this will ring true. Reviews are appreciated! Special thanks to Musicnotes093 for her feedback and general awesomeness. :)

Last Words

By 88Keys

9/29/13

Chase Davenport did not realize that it was possible for anything in the world to be as loud as an avalanche.

It starts as a few pops and cracks, which his bionic hearing picks up while the sounds are still barely audible. A prickle of fear runs up his spine before he can even begin to comprehend why. Within seconds, the pops and cracks have magnified into the sound of a thousand freight trains rushing by at once. A tidal wave of snow and ice rises up behind him. He can only watch and cry out in fear before the wave descends on him, rolling and tossing him around like a rag doll in a washing machine.

Somehow, he manages to throw up a force field around himself just before the avalanche hits. He is thrashed about for what feels like hours. Finally, he comes to rest under a massive layer of snow. The force field has kept the snow from completely crushing him, and he is left lying face-up in a small pocket of air. It is totally dark and completely still. Like being trapped in a very small cave.

Or a very cold coffin.

His advanced mind spends the first hour doing mathematical calculations. _Based on the dimensions of this space, I can calculate the air volume in cubic feet. Minus the volume of space that is occupied by my body, that leaves me with…not a lot of air. How many breaths per minute should I take?_

_I wonder how cold it is outside. How fast will my body temperature drop? Mr. Davenport's suit should withstand up to 45 below. How long does it take for a human being to freeze to death? And how long will it take Adam and Bree to get here? If they can even make it. What if the storm is too intense for them to get through?_

_Or what if they don't want to come for me?_

_No, that's crazy. We're a team. We never leave each other behind._

_Even though I kind of left them behind this time._

_Six feet long by three feet wide by two feet deep….25 breaths per minute…8,000 miles…45 degrees below zero…_

He spends the next hour shivering. The pain starts in his neck and shoulders. They tense up, as if in anticipation of what is to come. Soon he is shaking all over from cold. It is uncontrollable, intense and eventually painful. Muscles contract over and over again, making his body ache from head to toe. His teeth hurt from chattering non-stop. He tries to move around, to warm himself up and to stretch his tense muscles a bit, but there just isn't enough room in this snow cave.

_Snow coffin_, his brain corrects. _At least the cold will preserve your body until they can find you and give you a proper burial._

_If they ever find you. _

_Maybe this will be your grave._

Chase reaches up to scrape at the snow above him, trying to dig his way out. He needs to get out of here. Now. But the snow is tightly packed and frozen solid. It might as well be concrete. Still he keeps trying to break through. Gentle scraping gives way to frantic clawing at the ice in a panicked frenzy. This burst of activity increases the rate of his breathing. His brain knows that this is not good, that he is wasting precious oxygen, but his body will not stop thrashing around and clawing at the ice. Panic has taken over, and panic is the most dangerous enemy in any life or death situation.

Chase forces his hands down and turns himself over onto his stomach, lying on top of his arms and using his body to hold them down. _Stop it. Calm down. Breathe._ He tells himself this over and over, until his breathing slows, his heart rate returns to normal, and his hands are able to stay put.

He stretches his arms up over his head and lies his head down on them, suddenly exhausted. A painful lump rises in his throat. A few tears trickle out, freezing almost instantly on his cheeks. He swallows the rest of them back, not wanting a sheet of ice down his face.

_You're supposed to be smart. How could you be stupid enough to come here alone?_

_They'll come for me. They'll find me._

_I hope they come soon._

Even through his shivering, he feels something metal poking him in the side. He wiggles his shaking hand down inside his coat and pulls out the small voice recorder that he carries with him on all missions.

He stares at it for a moment, then clicks the "record" button and begins speaking words that may never be heard by anybody but himself.

"Chase Mission Log. I was trapped by a massive avalanche nearly two hours ago. I have no idea where I am, and no contact with the outside world. I'm very cold, and getting hungry. I've been calculating the area of this space in an attempt to figure out how much breathable air I have left. I'm estimating four hours at the absolute most."

It is brief and basic and factual, as a mission log should be. He clicks off the recorder because he can think of nothing else to say.

Hour three is just like hour two, only colder.

Chase pulls out the voice recorder again, because even failed missions must be recorded. His fingers are so numb that he can barely push the "record" button.

"Chase Mission Log. Hour three. These may be my last recorded words…I am still trapped under a massive layer of snow and ice. The air is getting thinner…I am still cold. I am still hungry… And these snow pants are giving me an extreme wedgie."

He is shocked at how weak and shaky his voice sounds. His sentences are punctuated by breathy hesitations, and it is hard to get the words out through the chattering of his teeth, but he tries again.

"If these are going to be my last recorded words, I guess they should be more meaningful than that. So…here goes…"

He speaks for a long time. He mentions every member of his family, putting inhibitions aside and letting the words flow. The thought that, most likely, no one will ever hear his words helps him to say the things he would probably never be able to say otherwise.

By the time he is done, his throat is sore and hoarse, and he is completely out of breath. Chase switches off the recorder and lets his head fall onto his arms again, suddenly exhausted. He feels warmer now than he did before. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knows this is a bad thing, a sign of worsening hypothermia, but he's too tired to care. He is so tired…his eyelids are getting heavy…maybe he can rest for a bit until Adam and Bree show up.

_He hears the wind howling above him, and he is so cold…in front of him, he sees Adam and Bree standing next to one of Mr. Davenport's transport vehicles. It is lighted up, and he knows that warmth and shelter are inside. Adam and Bree are motioning to him, beckoning him closer. He tries to get up on his hands and knees…safety is so close, all he needs to do is crawl fifty feet or so…but his frozen body refuses to move. He tries to pull himself forward with his arms, but nothing happens. Adam and Bree are still waving him forward, but they do not come over to help him._

_"Adam…Bree…help me…"_

_They look down at him, annoyed, and shake their heads. Both turn and enter the transport, leaving him behind in the wind and snow._

_"NO! Help me!" He is screaming, but the fierce wind takes his words and throws them away…no one can hear him…he can't even hear himself._

Chase jerks his head up. He is awake and he knows this, but can't remember the dream he just had. It is pitch black and cold, and he knows he is still under the snow. He has lost all track of time, and digging out his watch requires energy that he no longer has.

His family has not come for him.

He is warmer than he has been in a long time. Almost too warm. So warm that he wants to remove his jacket. He rolls over onto his back and tugs at the zipper, but his fingers have been without warmth for so long that they are now useless. He shuffles, grabs at the cuffs of his sleeves, tries to push them up, but they are long and will barely move. His limbs feel like clubs, clumsy and stupid. His brain is wrapped in a fog, and all he can think about is that he needs his jacket to be off right now. He struggles with the sleeves some more, then tries the zipper again, but he simply cannot do it. He nearly cries from frustration. Why can't he get his coat off?

The struggle has exhausted him again. His head falls back and his eyes close once more.

_Mr. Davenport is at his cyber desk. He's directing a mission. A holographic display of the icy mountains of Antarctica is in front of him._

_"Have you found him yet?"_

_"No. Nothing." He recognizes Adam and Bree's voices coming through the Comm-Link system._

_"Then let's pack it up and go home. I guess he's gone for good. He shouldn't have gone out by himself, anyway."_

_"No," Chase tries to tell him. "I'm right here." He can see the lab, and he knows that it is warm and dry and safe. There even seems to be a fire roaring in a fireplace that he doesn't remember the lab having before. He can see all this, but he is just outside of it, still cold, still freezing. Chase tries to move forward, but no matter how hard he tries, he is still just outside the lab. He can see the fire, glowing like a beacon, but he cannot feel its warmth. He can hear Mr. Davenport talking, but Mr. Davenport doesn't seem to be able to hear him. _

_Adam and Bree come in then, dressed in their mission suits. They climb into their capsules. His stands empty, but it is so close. Chase pushes as hard as he can, trying to move towards it…he can almost touch the capsule, but he can't reach it. A foot away, or a mile away…it doesn't seem to make any difference. _

_"Adam! Bree!"_

_He is screaming, but they either do not hear him or choose to ignore him._

_Either way, he is still outside. He pounds the frozen ground in frustration._

_"Let me in!...Please, let me in….let me in….let me in…"_

END CHAPTER 1

Thanks for reading! Conclusion should be posted in the next day or two.


	2. Chapter 2

Wow, what a nice response! Thank you all! Here is the conclusion to "Last Words." I hope you enjoy it!

* * *

Mr. Davenport owns the fastest jet in the world, but it still isn't fast enough for Bree.

It takes hours to get to Antarctica. Hours that Chase does not have. She and Adam are silent the whole way there, because neither of them wants to discuss what is happening, or admit that they are thinking it may already be too late.

They finally arrive and start scanning the area. They have Chase's exact location, at least according to the GPS locator in his bionic chip. It will send out a signal whether Chase is alive or dead.

They do not know if they are looking for their brother or for his body.

She pushes the thought out of her mind and focuses on the task at hand. "We should be right on top of him," she tells Adam. "Do you see his heat signature anywhere?"

"No," Adam replies. She tries not to let this worry her too much. Mr. Davenport said that the device might not be able to pick up Chase's body heat if he was under too much snow.

"Let's start digging." Dead or alive, he should be right here.

She scrapes at the snow with her hands. It's crumbly and hard, like little bits of ice. The wind is driving those bits of ice hard against her back. She is already cold and miserable, and she wonders how anyone could survive this for more than a few minutes.

Adam raises his goggles and starts blasting the ice with his heat vision. The red lasers cut through the snow easily, but there seems to be nothing underneath but more ice. He moves a bit to the side and tries again. He makes several long stripes through the snow, but there is nothing beneath them except the ground.

Finally, on the fifth try, the laser hits a pocket of air. He immediately stops and drops to his knees. He and Bree dig frantically. She scrapes away enough snow to reveal some brown fuzzy fibers that stand out against the whiteness of the snow.

"Adam! It's the fur lining in Chase's hood! We found him!"

She digs with superhuman speed, and Adam melts more of the snow away until they see the outline of his form. She frantically, almost angrily, knocks the snow away from Chase's head until his face appears. She stops momentarily, stunned at his appearance. His skin is pale, almost gray. His lips have a bluish tint. His eyes are closed, and they do not open even as she screams his name over and over.

He is not moving.

They need to get out of this wind. Adam reaches under his brother and lifts him up like a child, and they rush back to the transport. The heater is on full blast and it is sweltering inside, but neither of them mind because the heat is what he needs. Adam places him on one of the electric blankets that they have already spread out on the floor for him.

Bree pushes back her brother's hood and unzips his coat. She places a finger on his neck and presses her ear to his chest. "Come on Chase…please…"

Finally, she hears it. A thump. Then another one, a long time later.

"Well?" Adam asks anxiously.

"He's got a pulse!" If she hadn't already been on her knees, she would have collapsed with relief. "But it's really weak. I'll warm him up. You get this thing heading back home."

She removes his coat and snow pants. His mission suit is still dry so she leaves it on. She pulls off his gloves and gives a choked cry when she sees his hands.

"What?" Adam asks from the console.

"His fingers…they're all white." Lifeless, like a corpse. They've been deprived of blood for so long, she wonders if they will ever work again. She removes his boots and socks, and his feet are the same color as his hands.

Bree takes the heat packs Mr. Davenport sent with them and wraps them around his hands and feet. She then covers him with two more heated blankets and places both of their coats over the top. She folds up a smaller blanket and wraps it around his head.

Then she sits next to him, waiting, because there is nothing else to do.

Once the plane is on course, Adam joins her. "How is he?"

"He's alive."

Adam pulls out the thermometer Mr. Davenport sent with them and touches it to Chase's forehead. It beeps and announces his body temperature. 87 degrees.

"That's bad, isn't it?" Adam asks. He has a knack for putting things in the simplest terms possible. But there is really no other way to put it.

"It's survivable," she says stubbornly, because she refuses to believe otherwise.

Adam points to his brother's face. "His mouth is moving."

She looks down, and It is true. His lips are twitching. She leans down and can just hear his whispered words coming out.

"What's he saying?"

She frowns. "I'm not sure. It almost sounds like "let me in."

"Well, at least he's talking."

"Yeah."

Silence. The adrenaline of rescue wears off. There is nothing to do now but wait.

* * *

By the time they get back to the lab, his temperature is up to 91 degrees. Better, but still not enough.

Donald Davenport does not speak, other than to ask for Chase's temperature and condition. Adam lays his brother on the bed that has been set up for him in advance, and immediately Donald gets to work. He hooks up an I.V. line that will bring warm fluids into Chase's body. This will bring his temperature up faster than anything.

"Good work, guys," he says softly, not looking up from Chase's form as he speaks. "You can go get changed, get some rest."

They do not move, and finally he notices this and looks up.

"Guys?"

They both shake their heads. "We'll stay with him until he wakes up," Adam says.

Bree gathers up their discarded parkas, and something falls out of one of them and clatters against the floor.

"It's Chase's mission recorder," she says. She hits "playback" and is surprised to hear a new recording come out.

"Chase Mission Log. I was trapped by a massive avalanche nearly two hours ago. I have no idea where I am, and no contact with the outside world…"

"He would make a recording while he's trapped by an avalanche!"

She hits stop, suddenly angry. "Why did he go out there by himself? Didn't he know how stupid and dangerous it was?!"

"Bree…" Donald says gently.

"Well, it was stupid! He almost died, and we…I…" She finds it impossible to speak around the lump in her throat.

"Bree? Could you turn the recording back on?"

She looks at Adam, incredulous at his request, but hits "playback" again.

Tasha and Leo enter the lab, the former carrying a tray with bowls of hot soup and bread and hot chocolate for Adam and Bree. They accept it gratefully, while Leo hangs back, staring at Chase's still form.

"What's that?" he asks, pointing at the recorder.

"Chase's mission log," Bree explains, after washing away the lump in her throat with a swallow of hot chocolate.

"Who makes a recording when they're trapped in an avalanche?" Leo says.

"I know, right?" she replies. Still, there is something comforting about hearing Chase's voice, even if it is shaky and weak and barely recognizable at times.

"-final words, I guess they should be more meaningful than that."

They all stop what they are doing and look at each other, then back at the recorder.

"So…here goes…"

"Tasha, I've never had a 'real' mom before, but I can't imagine anyone being a better one than you…. Thanks for taking care of us, even though we're not your 'real' kids.

Leo, when you came into our family, everything changed. And I mean that in a good way. Because of you, we got to experience the real world…. We have learned more, seen more, and grown more in the past eighteen months than we did in the past fifteen years. And you were the catalyst for that growth…. you are my little brother, but in some ways, you seem older and wiser than the rest of us. Thank you for, well… for everything…. I'm sorry I messed up your magic act in the school talent show….oh, and I'm sorry that I didn't believe you when you told me about Marcus… I should have protected you better than that.

Adam, I'm sorry that you got hurt and lost your confidence because of me…And I'm really sorry for the times I made you feel stupid or put you down. You didn't deserve that…You're a kind and generous person, and in some ways… well, I think you're wiser than all of us.

Bree, I'm sorry for all the times I teased you and annoyed you and played pranks on you. I guess…I mean…the truth is, I'm a little jealous of you, because you're so confident and good with people. Making friends seems really easy for you…. I wish I could be more like you in that way…. You're beautiful and strong and confident. Don't ever settle for some loser guy, OK?"

The lump in Bree's throat is back with a vengeance, and she can barely see through her tears. She can just make out Tasha dabbing at her eyes with a napkin. Even Adam has put his soup down and is staring at Chase and blinking hard.

"You two are the best big brother and sister anyone could ever have... We were a good team, and I'm sorry I went without you this time... That was really stupid of me…. I guess I split the team up for good, but I know you guys will go on and do great things without me… I…I love you both.

Mr. Davenport…you took us out of a bad situation and made us more than we were ever meant to be… You've protected us, trained us, taught us so many things…. I realize now that you must have made a lot of sacrifices for us….Every good thing we have, and everything we are, is because of you. So all I can say now is 'thank you.'

I love you all…and I'm really, really sorry…"

Donald suddenly has to leave the room.

* * *

When Chase opens his eyes again, he is nearly blinded.

He is staring up directly at a light. He blinks, squints, blinks again. His brain seems slow to respond, but finally he is able to work out that he is staring at one of the ceiling lights in the lab.

He can't remember how he got here, or why he would be lying down like this in the first place. He is warm. Comfortably, deliciously warm. There is a thick pile of blankets on top of him.

Carefully, he turns his head to the side. Mr. Davenport is sitting next to him, staring at an electronic tablet of some kind. Next to him, Adam and Bree are sleeping sitting up, their heads resting against each other and a blanket covering their legs.

Chase tries to push himself up, and becomes aware of discomfort all over. His entire body is sore, and his hands and feet are throbbing. As he becomes more aware, the feeling intensifies until his hands ache so badly he cannot stand it. He cries out in pain, and the three watchers next to his bed all jump up so quickly that they nearly knock over their chairs.

"Chase!" Mr. Davenport calls out. He lays a hand on his chest and eases him back down onto the bed. "Take it easy. It's OK. You're safe now."

"My…hands…hurt…And my toes…"

"I know. They were frozen, but they're warming back up now. The pain is a good sign; it means you don't have nerve damage. You won't lose any of your fingers."

He swallows hard and crosses his arms over his chest, trying to ignore the pain in his digits but it proves impossible. He looks at Mr. Davenport again.

"Why were they…frozen?"

"You were in an avalanche," he explains gently, while Adam and Bree glance at each other worriedly.

"You don't remember?" Adam asks.

Chase tries hard to think back, but the pain in his hands is making it hard to concentrate. Gradually, the memories return, hazy and unspecific. The clicks and pops, the roaring. A wall of snow and ice. Being cold. Being trapped. Being afraid.

He says nothing, but his heart rate increases rapidly, and his breaths start coming in gasps. Bree takes his hand and leans in so that she is looking directly in his eyes and he can see nothing else.

"Chase, it's OK. We found you. You're safe, and you're going to be fine. Relax. Just relax…"

Donald injects a clear liquid into the I.V. line. "This will help with the pain," he explains. "And will probably make you sleepy. Just relax and get some rest, Chase. You'll feel better when you wake up."

The liquid has a fast effect, and he is drifting off almost before he realizes it. Just before he falls asleep, he squints at his brother and sister.

"You guys…you came for me?"

"Of course we did, Chase," Bree says gently.

"Yeah," Adam agrees. "We wouldn't leave you out there to die."

Chase blinks a few more times, his eyelids feeling heavier each time. Just before he drifts off to sleep again, he whispers one final world.

"Thanks."

THE END

Thank you for reading and (hopefully) reviewing! I'm working on a much longer fic that will (sort of) be a continuation of this one, so stay tuned!


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